


Beaten

by Severely_Lupine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:43:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severely_Lupine/pseuds/Severely_Lupine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a misguided attempt to impress Lily, Snape goes out for the Slytherin Quidditch team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beaten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FernWithy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FernWithy/gifts).



Janus Parkinson could hardly believe his eyes. 

“All right, scrubs, line up!” he shouted, loudly enough for the twenty or so would-be Quidditch stars to hear over the wind.  “We’ll start with some basic flying, see how you move in the air.  Those of you that don’t land on your arses will move on to the next phase.”

Some of the first- and second-years looked worried, but the others betrayed no emotion.  Except for one.  Severus Snape, a pallid and scrawny sixth-year, had his face set in grim determination, as if getting on the house team was the most important thing in the world.  It was a look Janus had seen enough times to know it well, but he was frankly shocked that it would be coming from Snape, a boy who had—as far as Janus knew—never expressed more than indifference and occasional loathing for Quidditch and everything about the sport.

 _This should be interesting,_ Janus thought.

Snape was wearing a particularly tatty robe which was clearly not made with Quidditch in mind, and he was riding one of the school brooms: an old Windrider Four that only first-year Muggleborns were too ignorant or desperate to bother with.

“Pick up that brush, Snape!” Janus yelled at him as Snape took off into the air.  “Your broom’s for flying, not cleaning!  Horizontal, man!”

Snape shot him a glare and adjusted his form.  He flew from one end of the pitch to the other, straight as a bolt.  Janus smiled to himself.  The weird little greaseball certainly was full of surprises.

Janus gave the signal to the four other members of his existing team, who each picked up a bludger and hit it at the flyers.  Three first-years, a second-year and a fifth-year had already fallen off their brooms, and the bludgers knocked five more students off.  A third-year boy came slinking back to Janus, cradling a broken arm, and Janus sent him off to the hospital wing after telling him to practice more and try again next year.

The three Slytherin Chasers had mounted their brooms and were having a grand time playing Beaters, hitting the bludgers at the students trying out—most of whom had now figured out to attempt to dodge them. 

Someone shook Janus’s shoulder.  “Hey, look,” said Evan Rosier, the only current Beater, pointing into the air. 

As Janus looked, a figure on a sluggish broom was swooping down on one of the Chasers, Regulus Black.  Before Black knew what had happened, Snape had snatched the bat from his hand and made a dive for the nearest bludger.  Snape swung with surprising strength for such a wiry guy, knocking the bludger back at Black, who spun away from it.  Black took a moment to breathe and get his bearings, but it was a moment too long.  Snape had found another bludger and sent it toward Black.  Black caught it square in the chest and was knocked clean off his broom. 

“It’s like he’s got a vendetta or something,” said Rosier as Janus pointed his wand at Black to cushion his landing. 

Janus called Snape in.  Snape landed and made his way across the pitch, giving Black a smug, satisfied smirk as he passed.

“Have something to say, do you?” Snape asked. 

Janus frowned.  He didn’t like Snape’s petulant tone.  “Got something against Black, Snape?”

Snape shrugged.  “Not that Black, but he’ll do.”

Rosier laughed.  “It’s that Gryffindor, see,” Rosier said in response to Janus’s raised eyebrows.  “Been giving Snape shite since first year.”

“Thank you, Rosier,” Janus said.  “Go get the ones who are still on their brooms started on some drills.”  Janus gave Snape an appraising look.  “Why the sudden interest in Quidditch, Snape?” Janus asked once Rosier left.

Snape’s eyes darted around as if searching for the answer.  “Potter,” he spat.  “Just once I’d like to give him what he deserves without Dumbledore punishing me for it.”

Janus crossed his arms.  So, it was hatred for the enemy.  He could use that.  “Is that all?  Quidditch is more than about knocking the other team off their brooms.”

Snape grumbled something under his breath.  Janus could only discern the words “she”, “likes”, and “now”.  “Ah.  So there’s a girl.”

“It’s not about her!” Snape insisted, though it quite clearly was.

“Is it the Evans girl?” Janus asked, beginning to understand.  “That Mudblood you used to—”  Janus stopped when he saw Snape’s wince.  Vengeance and lust, then.  And perhaps something more . . .

“What does my motivation matter?” Snape barked.  “I can play, can’t I?”

“Amazingly, it seems you can,” Janus admitted.  “All right, then.  Go join the others on the drills.  If you make it through the rest of try-outs—and continue to impress me—maybe you’ll be our new Beater.”

Snape nodded tersely and flew off toward the others.

Five months later, in the first Slytherin-Gryffindor game, Snape hit James Potter with a bludger so hard that Potter fell off his broom and broke his clavicle.  A time-out was called to get Potter off the pitch, and when Snape landed he looked exceedingly proud of himself. 

Until Lily Evans ran down from the stands.  Even though she kept herself from running to Potter and cooing like other girls might, she clearly looked worried.  Snape’s hands balled into white-knuckled fists when he saw this.  When Evans shot a pained, reproachful look at Snape, as if Snape had hit Potter purely to spite her, Janus saw a look on Snape’s face he’d never seen before: misery.

After Evans walked away, Snape dropped his broom and slunk back to the changing rooms.  Janus never saw him on the Quidditch pitch again.


End file.
